


Prompts from the Abyss

by Pomodoridori



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Rebels: Servants of the Empire - Jason Fry, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: AUs from prompts, Gen, M/M, like basically a bunch of fluff and then some sad ones, mostly features obi wan and maul squabbling, theres a lot of them! i hope you enjoy them!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2018-10-16 21:52:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 11,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10580217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pomodoridori/pseuds/Pomodoridori
Summary: Ever-growing collection of Maul and Obi-wan drabbles. some are obimaul, some are not. feel free to send me requests for fics on my tumblr @pomodoriyum!





	1. In which Maul and Obi-wan run from the Empire (together alone)

**Author's Note:**

> This one's for the obimaul prompt 'kiss me'

They’d been on the run for weeks.  Obi-wan had conveniently ignored the fact he was running alongside a criminal, a  _ sith _ , in favor of survival.  The new Empire disdained all forms of the Force, sith and Jedi alike.  That meant that he and Maul were being chased together, from the same enemy, to the ends of the galaxy.

They’d run into each other--literally--on Coruscant, during a raid (when the ‘troopers would come marching down the streets and go knock knock knocking at an unfortunate’s door).  Obi-wan still remembered his half-panicked jog down the alley, the mash of beings scurrying about, and the white hot pain when his knee smashed into the back of Maul’s leg.  Maul hadn’t even turned, at least not until Obi-wan had made that noise of shock from low in his throat.  Obi-wan remembered Maul’s hitched breath when he’d finally turned and saw him, the narrowing of those golden eyes, and then-- then the sharp gaze turned to just over Obi-wan’s shoulder, and his narrow hand reached to the Jedi’s wrist, and  _ pulled. _  “They’re coming,” was all he said before yanking Obi-wan along behind him.

And now Obi-wan was curled in the dark on a humming ship ( _ Maul’s _ humming ship, specifically), trying to sleep through the vibrations of the motor on autopilot (it didn’t do this when autopilot wasn’t engaged).  “ _ It helps with the hyperdrive _ ,” Maul’d told him when Obi-wan voiced his concern.  But Obi-wan was pretty sure Maul didn’t fix it because he was used to the sound-- Maul’s body language relaxed almost as soon as he flicked the switch for autopilot.  Obi-wan didn’t say anything, though.  If there was one way to piss off Maul, it was by pointing out the Zabrak’s (few) vulnerabilities.

\---

Obi-wan had finally drifted into an almost-dream when he felt Maul’s mechanical leg brush across his side and the cot dip as the Zabrak settled his weight on the mattress.  He opened an eye.  “What.”

Maul didn’t respond.

“Maul, it’s my turn on the cot tonight.”  (Obi-wan kept the petulance out of his tone, just  _ barely _ )

The Zabrak finally made an angry noise and pushed one of his cold legs against Obi-wan’s back.  Obi-wan yelped.  “That’s  _ freezing _ , you bastard!”

“Exactly.  The ship is cold tonight.”

“Turn the temperature up, then!”

“No. We can’t waste energy.”  Maul’s voice was crackly from sleep.

“Bullshit.”

Obi-wan practically  _ heard _ Maul’s eyeroll.  “Just shut up, Jedi, we need to rest.”

Obi-wan grumbled.   _ “Fine.” _

\--

Obi-wan woke to a broad warm arm slung across his belly.  Maul was still fast asleep on his side, hunched a little, and making small sounds like snoring.  His mechanical shins were pressed up against the back of Obi-wan’s calves--not quite warm, but not so cold, either.  It was strangely comfortable.  Obi-wan closed his eyes lazily.

Maul twitched awake not long after, pulling his legs away, and, after a pause, his arm.  Obi-wan caught it at the wrist.

“Hey,” he said, “that was nice.”

Maul made a sleepy unsure noise in the back of his throat, then rumbled, “Kenobi, give me my arm back.”

“Okay,” Obi-wan said, and let go of his wrist.  He turned over on the bed to look at Maul.  The Zabrak blinked at him, slowly. Obi-wan felt a yearning in his chest suddenly, for warmth and love and  _ home _ .  Something he could never have again.  Obi-wan closed his eyes hard, and then, to distract himself from that hurt  _ thing _ crawling up his throat, he whispered (hoarsely, desperately) “Kiss me.” (do something. do  _ anything _ )

There was a pause in Maul’s breathing.  Obi-wan did not dare to open his eyes.  The heavy hurt thing in his chest seemed to grow the longer the silence went on, and  _ oh Force this was a terrible miscalculation, just what you get you miserable-- _

Maul’s lips were chapped and rough and warm on his mouth.  Obi-wan opened his eyes.  “I--”

“Shut up, Kenobi.”  Maul brushed his hand down Obi-wan’s face, softly, gently.  The harsh sad thing in Obi-wan’s chest seemed to flutter all of a sudden, and swell.

He blinked back tears.  “Maul--”

“I said shut up.”  The Zabrak leaned in close and pressed his forehead into Obi-wan’s.  The Jedi closed his eyes as Maul put his hand back on Obi-wan’s waist.


	2. That one where Maul and Obi-wan meet in search of kyber crystals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set in an AU where Maul is unable to defeat Obi-wan and Qui-gon on Naboo, and escapes down the reactor shaft. He isn’t as gravely injured this time.

After the disaster on Naboo, Maul needed to replace his saber’s crystal.  The delicate stone had been fractured-- not irreparably so, but the Zabrak needed time to center himself before facing his Master.  And so, he found himself on the frozen planet of Ilum, shivering in his cloak and cursing into his fist as he attempted to patch one of the vital wires in his ship’s navigation system, which had been damaged when the hull’d was breached by a meteor during reentry.  Maul was angry about the repair, especially since  _ meteors shouldn’t bust the metal of a hull, any hull, dammit! _  But, Maul supposed that the hull could’ve been weakened by previous blaster fire.  He’d lifted it off of some pirates, and so he didn’t know its history.

_ My oversight was that I didn’t check it carefully when I first stole it.  Then I would have reinforced the hull and avoided this damn problem in the first place.   _

In the twenty minutes it took Maul to solder the hull shut (a patch, for now-- he’d fix it properly later), his proximity sensors went off, signalling that  _ something _ large and metal and heavy was in the nearby area.  Maul hissed.   _ It’s a practically abandoned planet.  Why would anyone come here…? Unless… _

Maul sat on the floor of the ship (cloaking devices running, of course) and closed his eyes.  Within seconds, the Force opened up to his mind’s eye: cloudy and tumultuous.  Maul felt along,  _ quietly _ , extending the Force around him like a cold blanket, pushing it in a thin layer around his ship until--

A bright light, like a flickering candle, at the edge of his vision, sitting in the cockpit of a small ship.  _ Jedi!  _  Maul retracted himself immediately, lest he be sensed.   _....And it is a familiar Jedi, too. _  Maul swallowed down his impatient anger.   _ It is the same Jedi from Naboo...the younger one.  I’d have killed him if he hadn’t been protected by the older one. _

Maul thought back to the fight, and the vertical slash along his leg that the Jedi had inflicted.  Shame flooded through him.   _ I can’t believe I allowed that.  _ Then rage.   _ How dare they even touch me!! _

The Zabrak stood, hand curling into a fist.   _ I will kill him where he stands. _

\---

The storm only worsened as Maul lay in wait.  He was cold, even huddled as he was on the inside of the cave.  It took a long time for the Jedi to appear, and for a time, Maul worried that he wasn’t cloaking his presence adequately (although it was one of the first things he learned, to escape Sidious’s notice.  Not that he ever succeeded).  Finally, the Jedi appeared, bedraggled and wet with snow.  His breath appeared white in the cave’s chilly air.  Maul grinned.   _ You will be mine soon. _

The padawan took a deep breath.  Maul could feel his Force signature settle, and then sharpen, bright like a sun.   _...That does not bode well.  Perhaps he is searching for a crystal…? ...He could have felt me… _

But the Jedi passed Maul by.  The Zabrak had no idea why he stopped from pouncing on the padawan-- maybe it was the growing sense of curiosity, or the gracefulness of the Jedi’s step, or that Maul  _ wanted to kill him in a proper battle. _

The padawan did not go far before he touched one of the green stones glowing in the rock.  “Hm,” he said, low and relaxed.

Maul edged forwards.   _ I ought to kill him now.  His back is to me. _  Slowly, silently, the Zabrak reached for his knife.

“I know you’re there.”

Maul froze, hand halfway to his blade.   _ My prey has never noticed me before.  What did I do wrong? _

“Come on out, whoever you are.”  The padawan’s voice sounded too bold, like a frail child trying to be bigger than they are.

Maul cocked his head to the side.   _ So he does not recognize me. _  He took a step forward, out from the shadows and into the dim glow of the crystals.   _ I’ll play his game. _  The Zabrak smiled, and kicked a loose pebble towards the padawan.   _ Here I am, little Padawan. _

Obi-wan turned quickly towards the noise, only to go shock-still.  “You,” he breathed.

Maul’s smile grew alongside the growl in his throat.

The Jedi put a hand to the saber at his waist. “Don’t,” he said.  “Don’t come any closer.”

Maul glanced at the saber.   _...he must be bluffing.  Why else would he be here, if not to find a new crystal? _  The Zabrak finished reaching for his knife, and dangled it from his fingertips. 

“Drop it.”

Maul was torn between amusement and rage.   _ Who does this child think he is? As if he could order me to do anything. _  He swung the blade by its handle, but then tightened his grip.

“I said drop it!”

Maul rumbled at him.   _ I’m not entirely sure why I haven’t killed him yet...he seems amusing. _

The Jedi frowned, brows furrowing.  “What the hell? Don’t you talk?”  ... _ Apparently he abandoned the knife issue,  _ Maul thought, amused.

He decided to indulge him.  “Yes,” he purred, “I do.”

The padawan glared at him.  “You’re still an apprentice?”

Maul pursed his lips.   _ I won’t betray my Master. _

After a few moments of silence, the young Jedi tried again.  “Look, I’m just here to get a crystal, so if you’d kindly--”

Maul snarled, and suddenly the padawan had his saber in his hand, still powered off.  “I really don’t want to fight you--”

Maul threw the knife.  Tactically, it wasn’t the best choice, but Maul was annoyed.   _ I can take him unarmed. _

The padawan yelped and ducked.  Maul ran at him.  Suddenly, in a static-ey whoosh of air, the Jedi’s saber ignited.  Maul cursed and vaulted backwards, scrambling away from the Jedi.   _ Why the hell is that thing not broken?! _

“Look, I’m not here to fight you!”  The padawan held the saber in front of him, threatening.

Maul growled, low in his throat and  _ dangerous _ .

“Just-- let me get my crystal and I’ll leave you alone.  And-- wait!  You’re here for a crystal, too, aren’t you?”

_ Obviously.   _ “Oh, how  _ perceptive _ of you.”  Maul snorted, then, energy levels dropping low.  

The padawan scowled.  “There aren’t Sith crystals  _ here _ .”

_...This isn’t worth my time. _  Maul began to back away.   _ Never turn your back on an enemy. _

The Jedi let him go.

\---

Back in his ship, Maul wondered if he should go back.


	3. Tattooine, for old men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one might turn into a fic, y'all. it's one of my favorite tropes-- X character doesn't actually die

Maul stared at the golden grey sphere that filled the viewport.  Tattooine hung limply, as if wrung out dry and suspended between its twin suns.  And it  _ was  _ dry.  A desert, Maul’s ship log had said, known for its turbulent sandstorms and deadly podracing.

He took a deep breath, held it, then released the air along with the tension in his lungs.  Maul hated to admit it, but he was excited.  It’d been  _ years _ since he was this close to his prey,  _ years _ since Kenobi had gone missing...and to have him so close was tantalizing.  Maul’s exhaustive search was finally almost over. 

_ At last I will have my revenge.  At last I will kill him. _  Maul closed his eyes and imagined for the thousandth time how Obi-wan would look as he died: puny and helpless and fading.  The corner of Maul’s mouth twitched up, and he snapped out of his reverie.

The spaceport in Tattooine was crowded.  Maul did not like it-- he’d landed his ship on the outskirts of town, hidden between the folds in the rocks-- but it was the best place for information.  The area was teeming with bars, where loose-lipped locals would tell him where Kenobi was hiding.  Maul pulled the hood of his cloak over his face as he entered one of the bars, ignoring a merchant’s call of, ‘ _ Daffodils! Buy some rare Earth Daffodils!’ _ _ No use being spotted right away. _

\---

Several bars later, Maul had what he needed.  There were rumors that ‘Old Ben’ had been a Jedi.  When pressed, the locals admitted that the old man lived out of town, just ‘down the southern pass’, a day’s journey.  Maul was almost positive that ‘Old Ben’ was Kenobi-- the local’s descriptions had been spot on.

He took what he needed from his ship-- water, food rations, his blaster.  It wouldn’t be a long trip.  Maul didn’t quite know what he’d do when he’d get back ( _ if  _ he got back, but--  _ I’ll be back _ , he reminded himself), but he would figure something out, some new mission.  Finding out about his father and mother, maybe.  See if any Zabraks survived on Dathomir.   _...Or something. _

\---

“A day’s journey, the locals said,” Maul groused, “Dammit, I should’ve stolen a speeder!”

The Zabrak’d been practically wading through the sand for two days, and  _ of course _ , he was almost out of food and water.  At the peak of day, when both suns rose sweltering hot to the their zenith, the sand was burning hot, and hurt to touch.  Maul had to recede to the shadows, when he could find them.   _ I know that to survive I must stay in the shade.  I am not as young as I used to be. _

The nights were bitter cold, with violent winds that whipped up vicious sandstorms.  The first night, Maul was almost blinded by one-- with the dark he could hardly tell where the wall of sand began, and only the Force warned him before the sand lashed across his face.  After that, Maul did not travel much past sunset.  He could not risk missing Kenobi’s home due to an intense sandstorm.

Maul was parched by midafternoon.  His mouth was dry, tasted like dirt.  Swallowing hurt.  The heat pounded, pounded, pounded.  His face felt swollen where the sand had hit it, scraped raw by the wind.  It felt like he was back on Orisis, except instead of freezing sleet he was being hit by burning sand.  His Master wanted him to learn to survive.  Survive or die.  Survive or die.

Maul blinked against the bright, and his eyelids were heavy.  He was so warm.   _ So sleepy.  If I could just… _

_ I have the symptoms of heat stroke, _ Maul realized.   _ Shit. _  There wasn’t much he could do, especially since there was no shade for miles around.   _ I’ll have to finish off my water. _

But the flask,  _ dammit _ , was empty.  And so Maul shuttered his eyes against the growing wind, and plowed onwards.

\---

It felt like days later (although the sun had only sunk a few inches closer to the horizon), and all Maul wanted to do was fall over and  _ rest _ .  But he couldn’t.   _ Just one more step,  _ he told himself.   _ Just one more. _  And flinched when the white-hot sand touched him.

Survive or die.  That’s what his Master told him.  Survive or die.

Maul was pretty sure he was going to die.  It stung, a little, when he realized it.  All his struggle, his work, his life.  The time it took to find Kenobi.  All of that, washed away into the desert.  Faded, blotted out of history.  Forgotten.  Maul’s knees trembled.

The sand was everywhere, all at once.  In his mouth, his eyes, burning his torso.  Maul coughed out a mouthful before he was completely aware that he was lying belly-down on the ground like a snake.  His trembling arms didn’t have the strength the push him up, and the Force was far away, shuddering with laughter above him.  Maul tried to drag himself forward using his hands, but the sand slipped through his fingers, silky smooth.  The most Maul managed was to roll onto his back so he could breathe.  He closed his eyes against the sun.  His hearts thudded in his chest.   _ So loud. So loud. _

_ It won’t be long now.  It...won’t be long. _

_ \--- _

Maul woke up sitting with his back against something cool and hard and a mouth full of water.  He swallowed reflexively, quickly.  The sweet feeling of relief flooded Maul’s body, and he almost missed the rapid intake of breath near his ear, or how something brushed his jaw.  Cold panic shot down Maul’s spine, because  _ never be vulnerable near an enemy _ , and his eyes shot open.

Everything was blurry, and Maul blinked furiously to clear his eyes as he extended the Force around himself like a big blanket.  It told him that  _ whoever, whatever  _ had been touching him was Force-sensitive, and powerful, too.  Maul snarled, the sound catching in his still-swollen rough throat.  Something was wrong with his lower torso, too, something mechanical, but Maul couldn’t fix it  _ now _ of all times.  His eyes finally focused and then he saw  _ him _ .

Kenobi.  Right there, in the flesh.  Living and breathing.  The Jedi looked older, and tired, too, but Maul didn’t care.  Age had taken a toll on them both.

His hand went for his lightsaber, but all he found was the smooth leather of his belt.  Anger rolled through him.   _ How dare he take it! _

Kenobi had backed up a few steps, but his hands were still clasped in front of his robes, peacefully, peacefully.  He did not look worried.

_ He should be.  _ Maul growled.  “What have you done with my saber?”

“I confiscated it, of course.  Didn’t want you to try and kill me in my sleep.”  There was an almost-there light humor in Kenobi’s voice, and Maul was not pleased.  He growled.

“I’m here to have my revenge, Kenobi.”

Kenobi raised a brow.  “Good luck with that.  Aren’t we a little old for playfighting, hm?”

“What are y--!” Maul cut himself off as he tried to rise.  His legs had been  _ off _ , and all of a sudden Maul understood why.  The lower half of his torso was gone, and all that remained was the metal shell that wrapped about his abdomen and some wires.  Kenobi had taken his legs, again.

Anger seared down Maul’s throat, and he  _ roared _ .

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”

Obi-wan looked almost amused.  Almost cruel.  “I made sure you wouldn’t kill me in my sleep, that’s what I’ve done.”

The anger was blinding, as was the fear that ran hot just below it.  Maul flung the first item he could reach at Kenobi.  “I’LL KILL YOU!”

The screw bounced harmlessly at Kenobi’s feet.  The Jedi stooped down to pick it up.

“No, you won’t.” He said calmly.

“FUCK YOU!!”

Kenobi sighed, sounding so much like Sidious that Maul bit back his instinctive shudder of terror.   _ Master is far away, and Kenobi is no Sith. _

The Zabrak closed his eyes to calm his rage, and quell his fear.   _ There will be no death here.  Not mine, anyway. _

“I’m going to leave you in here for a bit.  I’ve things to do. Try and get some rest.”  Kenobi shut the door, and Maul was left blinking in the dark, feeling stupid, wrestling with his anger.

_ I’ll find a way to end this. _


	4. Maul is ticklish (and he hates it)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was: tickling!

Maul is exhausted.  He’s been moving crates of hypersensitive kyber crystals all afternoon, and all he wants is sleep.  He takes a deep breath, and lifts the last batch of crystals. They cannot be jostled, or dropped, or bumped, or else Maul and the surrounding 100 yards of platform will be smoke and ashes and torn burnt metal.  He guides them onto the transport ship, lets the box gently settle onto the floor of the cargo bay.  The crew of the ship could take it from there.  Maul had had enough.  

He stretched, letting his abdomen get pulled up and out by his own weight.  His back popped, and Maul grunted in annoyance.   _ A poor stretch means a backache later. _  The Zabrak wiped sweat from the corners of his eyes and from around his horns ( _ itchy! irritating! _ ) and sighed.   _ I hate this job.  Time to clock out. _

Maul hit the showers as soon as he got home.  In his exhausted haze, he dropped the soap no less than five times, and four out of the five times he forgot that he could levitate the soap back up to his fingertips using the Force.  He stumbled from the shower in record time, toweling himself dry.   _ My job is too damn draining.  ...Maybe I’m getting too old. _

Maul fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

\---

Obi-wan roused Maul with all his noise when he returned home.  He was in the kitchen, banging what felt like all the drawers and opening and closing the squeakiest door in the fridge and rattling the utensils and slamming the pots and--

Maul groaned, rolled onto his side, and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He sat up, feeling stupid with fatigue and dizzy besides, and stood on leaden legs.  His swollen feet gave an angry pulse of pain.  Maul sighed, and then wished he hadn’t, because  _ damn was his mouth dry _ .  Maul resisted the urge to cough, and instead drank the water at the bedside table.

“Kenobi,” he said, loudly, “could you please shut up?”

Obi-wan continued his noisy routine in the kitchen.

“Kenobi,” he said, louder, “shut up!”

With this there was a pause in the kitchen, as Obi-wan set down a plate with a clank.  “Maul…? You’re home early.” 

Maul blinked sluggishly as Obi-wan wandered into the room.

“Well?”

“I’m exhausted.  I need sleep.  So shut up in the kitchen.”  With that, Maul lay back down and pulled the covers over his head.

Obi-wan sighed.  “Okay.  I’ll put the dishes away later, then.”

Maul felt the mattress dip as Obi-wan settled on it.  He grunted.  “Don’t you dare steal my blanket.”

“ _ Your _ blanket? Don’t you mean  _ our _ blanket?”  Maul could hear the teasing in Obi-wan’s voice.

“No.  I meant what I said.”  Maul yawned.  “Shush.”

“Mmmm.”  Obi-wan pressed up against Maul’s back.  “You’re warm.”

“Shut up or I’ll kick you off.”

Obi-wan chuckled against Maul’s back.  The vibration was comforting, and so was the heat, and soon Maul was drifting halfway to sleep, heavy and lax.

\---

The next time Maul woke, sleepily, Obi was kneading deep soothing circles into his back.

“Hgnh. ...What are you doing, Kenobi?”  Maul’s throat was rough from sleep.

“M’giving you a massage.”

“...why?”

The pressure on Maul’s back ceased.  “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” Maul rumbled, “but it’s weird.”

Maul felt Obi-wan’s hands brush up against his back again, tentatively.  The skin there was sensitive, and Maul’s stomach jumped.  He snorted in surprise.

“Wait, don’t tell me you’re ticklish.”  Maul did not like the tone of Obi-wan’s voice, not at all, because he’d heard that kind of humor before, and it always promised trouble.

“Of course not.”   _ I don’t even know what that is. _

Obi-wan ghosted his fingers over Maul’s skin again, and the Zabrak barely suppressed his instinctive huff of air.

“Stop that,” he said.  “It  _ itches _ .”

Obi-wan giggled.  “No it doesn’t.”  He repeated his hand motion, close to Maul’s ribs, and the Zabrak choked on a laugh.   _ What the hell did  _ that _ come from? _

“Kenobi, stop it!” Maul wriggled away from Obi-wan.  “What the hell, Kenobi?”

Obi-wan was laughing, now. “You  _ are _ ticklish, Maul!”

Maul felt torn between being cross and feeling oddly content.  “Kenobi…”

“Yes…?”  There was a lot of suppressed joy in that voice.  Maul liked it.

“Shh.”

“...fine.”

 


	5. Demons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This! is! not! Obimaul!  
> Because obi-wan is a kid in this one, y'all.

The room had wooden floors and bright windows that spilled light across the papers, lanterns, herbs, and half-melted candles strewn about the room.  A boy in brown robes stood in the center of the room, practically buzzing with excitement, holding a large book in front of his nose.  He started chanting in a low voice, reading off the yellowed pages.  Something stirred-- a rustling of the curtains.  A wind picked up, tossed the paper on the floor about.  The glass of the window was closed.

While most sentient beings would leave,  _ immediately _ , this little boy with the fuzz of golden brown hair and a padawan’s braid smiled.  He stopped his chant, sat down, cross-legged, waiting.

He did not have to wait long.

With a crack, something big and bulky and liquid dropped from the ceiling and landed,  _ hard _ , on the floor.  It shuddered.

The boy grinned.  “Hi.”

“Ow. What the fuck is your problem, summoning me on the ceiling?”  The liquid collected itself, arching upwards.  It became solid, muscular.  Narrowed golden eyes stared at the boy across the room.

“I thought you could fly.”  The laughter in the boy’s face said otherwise.

“Fuck you.”  The demon gestured to the ceiling, where a great black summoning circle had been drawn.  “Gravity works on us, too, you little gremlin.”

“Hey!” The boy sounded offended.  “I got you dried rosemary this time!”

“Hmph.”  The demon plucked a stem of rosemary from the ground delicately, and sniffed it.  “How long has this been in the cupboard?”

The boy shrugged.  “A few days, give or take.”

The demon pursed its lips.  “Tell your Master that he’s got to keep that kriffing tin of rose petals farther away from his other herbs.  They’re polluting these with their stench.”

“Oh,  _ come on _ , Maul, we’ve been over this--”

“Yes, yes, the closet is too small, but even so--”

“Shhh.  Just enjoy it.”

“Fine.” The demon ate the rosemary.  “It’s kinda dry.”

The padawan rolled his eyes.  “Of course it is.  It’s  _ dried _ rosemary, for Forces’ sake.”

Maul huffed at him, and used the Force to pull another stem of rosemary towards himself.

As the demon crunched away, the little padawan sighed.  “Maul, something’s been upsetting my Master.”

“And…?”

“I’m worried about him.”

Maul yawned.  “Don’t waste your time on that.  He can take care of himself.”

“That’s really bad advice and it makes me feel worse.”

Maul blinked.  “...at least you’re honest about it.  If you’d really wanted advice you wouldn’t have even bothered summoning me.”

The boy nodded, bit his lip.  “Yeah, I guess.”

“You just wanted a distraction.”

“Uhhuh.”

“I’m not doing anything stupid, like dancing or something, by the way.”

“Fine.  Tell me a story.”

The demon was a bit taken aback.  “A story?”

“Yeah.  Like something you did a long time ago. For some other master.”

Maul furrowed his brow in thought. 

“It has to be a good story, okay?”

The demon’s mouth twitched, then, and the boy felt a sudden chill settle over the room.

“....Maul?”

“I used to know you.”

“What?”

“We were...enemies.”

“What?”  The child looked confused. “Maul, what are you--”

“Shush!” Maul glared at the padawan.  “I’m in the middle of the story.”

The boy huffed, and then quieted.  The chill was gone.

“We were enemies, you and I and your Master.  We fought a great battle along the halls of a palace on a planet called Naboo.  I cut your Master down and then you did the same to me.”  Maul scrunched up his nose a bit.  “...that’s all.  The end.”

The padawan scowled, balled up a piece of paper, and threw it as hard as he could at Maul’s head.  “That’s an awful story.  And untrue! I wanted to hear about the ancient city of Coruscant, before it got destroyed by the great wars.  I’m  _ sure _ a Jedi summoned you  _ there _ !”

The demon sighed.  “Kenobi. That happened a long time ago.”

“No way!”

Maul glared at him, then, and for the first time spoke with a spark of anger in his eyes.  “Child, I did not lie.  Have you ever wondered how beings become demons?  Because believe me, I never wanted  _ this _ \--”Maul gestured at the room around him--“never ending life.  I have lived too long.  And I’ve seen the same things, over and over.  Empires rise and fall. I have seen dozens of them.  And even people! I’ve seen the same people live their lives over and over again, except their souls get the release of oblivion every time they die.  I’ve seen you live three times now, but what about me?! When do  _ I _ get to die and rest in oblivion?”

Obi-wan opened his mouth to speak, but Maul cut him off.

“ _ Don’t. _ ”

The boy closed his mouth, looked away.  “Maul--”

“I said  _ don’t.” _

“--I’m sorry.”

The demon put his head between his hands.  “It’s not your fault. Don’t apologize.”

The boy shifted uncomfortably.  “...Maul?”

“What, child?”

“You’re terrible at telling good stories.”

“Shut up.”

  
  
  



	6. Maul Misses His Legs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no, seriously, this one's sad. Maul is not…happy.

Maul tries only once to bring his legs back from the dead, after he nearly drowns in a pond (the metal legs are heavy, so  _ heavy _ , and for nights afterwards Maul wakes up gasping and still seeing a murky film of water closing above his head, clawing and only truly  _ waking _ once he’s fallen to the floor.)  The ritual is an ancient one, passed down from generation to generation of Nightsisters, meant to heal any wound, any amputation.  But Maul’s scars are not fresh, and even as he prepares for the ritual he is doubting his own success.   _ It should not be this way _ , he tells himself, _ I should not be afraid of this. _  The dark magic should not kill any Sith.

The room, once ready, is clean of clutter.  A goat is tied in the corner, frightened, and is the only noise in the silent room.  Maul has memorized the chant, the movements, the channeling of the Force.  He has removed the metal that, normally, wraps about his torso and acts like hips for his prosthetics.  He is slower, this way, but it must be done.  The scar tissue must be ready.  Maul begins to weave the chant.

It is long, arduous, tiring.  Maul can feel himself break into a sweat as he bends the Force in a blanket around himself, telling the flows and eddies of it to bring him the past, the present, the future.  There was a reason why the Nightsisters never performed this ritual alone.  But Maul had the stamina for three of them.  It  _ would  _ be enough.  It’d have to be.

_Three minutes.  Only three minutes_.  Maul ran his fingers along the knife he held in his right hand, as long as his forearm.  Slowly, he moved towards the goat, who was shrieking in terror.  The dark magic disturbed it, and Maul cursed the beast for disrupting the holy ceremony with its squeals.  His progress was slow—without his legs and with his hands busy Maul had to propel himself along using the Force, which—which—was difficult. 

Maul neared the goat, felt its lifeforce flicker.  He licked his lips.  First, his scars.  He ran the knife along his waist, hard enough for the puffy tissue to peel apart, bleeding.  The pain was good, sharp.  A breath of fresh air.  Darkness congealed around him.

At the smell of blood, the goat screamed and kicked. Its hoof sunk deep into the flesh at Maul's waist, and Maul gasped at the sudden pain, concentration broken. He felt the Force slowly slipping past his fingers, trickling away like sand. "No!" He bellowed, even as the goat screamed again and coldness like ice wrapped around them like a vise.  _ No! No! _

Maul howled when the Force finally wrested itself away from him, and invisible hands were tearing at his face, his wound, his throat. Darkness clouded Mauls vision, and Sidious's face slithered past, hissing. Maul's wound gaped, bled.  _  I am making noise _ , he thought distantly,  _ a loud noise _ , and the Force was writhing-- _ no! He was the one writhing _ , and the Force was a smothering blanket that covered everything grey. 

Grey to white to black.  The pain was no good any more.  _ It hurts, it hurts _ . Maul couldn't hear the goat any more. Only the voices of the dead. His ancestors back to taunt him.   _ Master--! _

Time was ripping apart at the seams, and nothing mattered any more except the slimy black eels thrashing in his throat, choking and burning him like gallons of hot oil.

\---

Maul finally opened his eyes after what felt like days.  _ I’m alive,  _ Maul thought with dim surprise.  _ I shouldn't be _ .

It took a while before Maul was aware enough to take stock of himself and his surroundings. 

  1. He was still alive 
  2. His waist was still bleeding, sluggishly. No legs. 
  3. The goat was dead



Maul sat up, struggling to push himself forward on trembling arms. Something wet trickled down his face, and Maul found that there was blood coming from his nose and mouth. Everything was rusty.  His breath was ragged.

The room was still empty, but it didn't  _ feel  _ vacant. Maul had the sudden urge to leave. The goat's eyes stared at him, glassily, and he could sense whispers from the corners of the room. Maul tried to move from his spot and stopped immediately in pain, shuddering. Blood was congealed on the floor in a sticky mess. 

Eventually he dragged himself out, using his arms to wiggle along the floor like a snake.  The goat he left to rot.

Maul did not attempt the Nightsister ritual again.

 


	7. Matchmaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request was: qui-gon playing matchmaker. Yes, anakin makes a brief appearance, too.

Qui-gon was  _ tired _ of being the responsible adult.  He was  _ tired _ of always being the one saying ~~(~~ ~~ shouting ~~ ~~)~~ , “Anakin, no!”,  _ tired _ of being the villain (“No, Anakin, I don’t want to make you sad but your life choices--”),  _ tired _ of taking responsibility and absolutely  _ fed up _ with the Council.  Whining toerags, the lot of them.

And so one fine morning waking up to Anakin yelling, and Obi-wan yelling back, and the sunlight nice and bright on his face and the day shining, Qui-gon lost his patience.   _ Fuck it _ , he thought as he remembered the Council meeting that was scheduled for the afternoon.   _ I am taking the day off. _

At breakfast, Qui-gon announced their new plans for the day.  “Anakin, Obi-wan,” he began, “today we will be going to the park.  It will be a study in mediation and patience.”   _ And once you two are focusing I can have some real peace and quiet. _

Obi-wan scrunched his nose in annoyance.  “So I’ll have to reschedule my training with a bow-rifle?”

Qui-gon nodded. “Yes, padawan. Tell Adi I am sorry, but these were last minute plans.”

Obi-wan sighed.  Anakin scoffed.  “You didn’t want to go to the Council meeting.”

“Well, I was planning to tell them that I forgot…”  _ I should not be teaching them to lie... _ Qui-gon grinned.   _ Fuck it. _

\---

The day was indeed beautiful.  It was tough to find a nice shady spot in the grass of Coruscant’s main park due to the number of beings who, like Qui-gon, decided that today was a perfect day out.  Finally, the group settled down beneath a huge cypress tree: Obi-wan spreading out the blankets, Anakin setting their food down, Qui-gon eyeing the gaggle of Neimoidians across the way (no doubt planning some dire threat to the state of peace on Coruscant).  A Zabrak was sitting to their left, engrossed in a novel.  He was fiddling with a blade of grass, rolling it between his fingers as he read.  _...Why does he look familiar…? _

Qui-gon turned to Obi-wan and Anakin.  “Now.  You two will meditate for an hour, and then we’ll have lunch.”

“Where will you be, Master?” Obi-wan inquired.

Qui-gon smiled.  “I will be observing these people and helping keep the peace.”

Obi-wan did not look impressed.  “So you’ll be taking a walk, then.”

“I suppose you could call it that, yes.”  Qui-gon inclined his head.

Anakin huffed.  “That’s not fair.”

“I’ll take you two on a walk after lunch.”  Qui-gon saw the Zabrak who was reading fight off a smile.   _ Well, I suppose it is funny.  Two younglings arguing with an old man. _

Anakin hardly looked appeased, but he relented and sat on the blankets.  Obi-wan joined him.  Qui-gon saw him stealing glances at the red and black Zabrak.

“Focus, Obi-wan.”

“Yes, Master.”  Obi-wan, for his part, hardly looked ashamed.   _ Ah, well.  I was the same. _

\---

Qui-gon was halfway through his walk when he remembered where he had seen that Zabrak before.   _ The Zabrak from Naboo! _  He felt panic rising,  _ because he had left his two padawans meditating right! next! to! the assassin who tried to kill Qui-gon on sight. _

Qui-gon  _ ran. _  Because even though the Force hadn’t warned him, even though the Force felt warm and hale and safe, Qui-gon was  _ worried _ .

Qui-gon arrived panting to find Anakin meditating on the blanket like he left him.  “Where’s Obi-wan,” Qui-gon gasped, “Is he safe?”

Anakin cracked open an eye to glare at Qui-gon.  “I was just getting to the good bit, Mas-- Obi-wan’s fine,” he added hastily, seeing the Jedi’s expression, “just went to go talk with that Zabrak over there.  See?”  He gestured with his chin towards the other side of the field, where Obi-wan and the Zabrak were talking animatedly.

Qui-gon relaxed, slightly.  With Obi-wan in sight, he felt much better. “Thank you, Anakin.”  Qui-gon turned to glare at Obi-wan.   _ And now for you. _

\--

End

Not featured: Qui-gon telling Obi off for not meditating while he eyes Maul suspiciously

Obi-wan and Maul going on dates later and Qui-gon is ~~_furious_~~ worried.


	8. Please, just stop talking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angsty maul is upset. please enjoy this little snippet

Obi-wan was cradling Maul’s face between his hands.  The Zabrak was hunched over, coiled in on himself as far as he could, trembling with his fingers wrapped grey-tight around his knees.

But his voice was calm and steady and _ cold. _  That was what frightened Obi-wan the most, actually.  The lack of inflection, the emptiness.  The ice.

“--was eight.  My next trial consisted of scaling the mountains west of Xereros.  I lost three toes because I was foolish enough to step next an adder’s nest.”

Obi-wan swallowed, hard.  “Maul--”

“I was ten the first time my Master required service of me.”  The Zabrak continued on, heedless of the pain in the Jedi’s voice.  Or, perhaps, and much more likely-- Maul didn’t care.  Obi-wan had asked, and now he was getting his answer, whether he liked it or not.

“Please, just--”

“He continued to use me for his personal pleasure until he abandon--”

“MAUL!”

The Zabrak blinked, startled out of his reverie.  “Kenobi…? I thought you wanted to know about my past.”

“Please, just stop talking.”

Maul’s eyes narrowed.  “Kenobi--”

“No.  I don’t want to hear any more, and I’m sorry I asked.” Obi-wan’s fingers curled around Maul’s face tighter, then.  “Just stop.”

Maul’s face twisted into an offended, angry mask and he ripped himself away, hissing.  “Don’t pity me,  _ Jedi. _  You don’t know the first thing about--!!”  Maul pursed his lips into a flat hard line.  “Your arrogance is as disgusting as it is pitiable.  Leave me.”  His voice was mechanical again.

“Maul--”

“I said LEAVE!”  This time, the Force sent Obi-wan staggering backwards in a wall of fury.

Obi-wan swallowed, again, and avoided Maul’s eyes.  “I’m sorry.”

Durasteel doors slammed shut in his face.  Obi-wan bit his lip as guilt assaulted him.   _ Just when we were starting to get close...I fucked up.  Bad.  Maul, I… damn it. _


	9. What am I to you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See title for prompt. Yes, this one hurts too, but not so much in the end.

Obi-wan was hunched over the fire, letting it warm his aching cold old bones.  It’d been a long day, full of work and cleaning and pain.  Maul was watching him pensively.

The mood was quiet, but Obi-wan knew it wouldn’t last.  It never did when Maul was feeling unsettled.  And he’d been very unsettled, these past few days.  Obi was almost worried-- Maul rarely shied away from physical contact, but he’d been avoiding the Jedi all day.

_ Ah, well.  I doubt I’ll have to confront him.  Maul’ll spit it out, sooner or later.   _

“Kenobi,” Maul began, and the Force  _ pinged _ .   _ Here it comes _ , thought Obi-wan as he straightened up.

“Mm?”   _ Best appear relaxed, or Maul’s anxiety will make him aggressive. _

“Look at me.”

Obi-wan turned to gaze at the Zabrak.   _ His _ Zabrak, his  _ partner _ , the royal pain-in-the-ass who practically made up the other half of Obi’s soul.  The half that got torn away years ago…

Maul was old, and he looked it.  His horns were gnarled, and his tattoos faded.  Wrinkles carved deep ravines in his face, around the corners of his mouth, between his eyes, where his brows knitted in anger or concentration or pleasure.

“What am I to you, Kenobi?”

Obi-wan blinked.  Maul was tense, rigid.  Deeply unhappy.

“My partner, obviously.”  He sent out a tentative curl of energy to Maul, trembling with love.  Maul did not appreciate words half as much as action, and this was the kind of question Obi had to answer with truth, not words.  There was no room for misunderstandings here, because much as Obi knew Maul loved him, he was also aware that the Zabrak would leave him without a glance back if he felt like he was being lied to, or being used.  There’d been enough of  _ that _ in their youth, when they were both prideful and egotistical and completely convinced they were  _ right. _ _ Well. I was, at least.  And Maul was an arrogant fool. _

The Zabrak growled, and Obi-wan frowned.

“I mean,” Maul chewed on his lip, angrily (and Obi-wan ignored the nagging voice that wanted to tell him, Stop That!), “who do you think I am.  ...No.  That’s not right, I--”  Maul’s hand twitched.  “How can you bring yourself to trust me?”

Shock flooded through Obi-wan.  “I thought it was obvious-- Maul, I trust you with my life!”

Maul’s mouth twisted, then, bitter and cynical.  “Why?  I haven’t protected you.  Ever.”

Obi-wan cast his eyes down to the ground and then back to Maul’s face.  “That’s not entirely true.  You’ve protected me many times.  Especially from my own ego.”

“That means nothing.”  Maul’s reply was immediate, cutting.  Dismissive.  But Obi-wan knew what he was trying to do.

“Bullshit, and you know it, Maul.  Even if I did trust you for no reason, why would that be a bad thing?  Love doesn’t follow logic.”

Maul growled.

“We’ve had this conversation before, Maul.  I’m not doing it again for your own good.”

The Zabrak relaxed a bit, then.   _ Good. _

“Come here.”

Maul raised his eyebrow (or, well, his brow, but his extensive tattoos exaggerated the movement enough to get his point across).  Obi-wan nearly sighed.   _ And the stubbornness raises its head. _

“Fine, fine.” Obi walked to Maul and pulled him in close.  The Zabrak was unresisting as Obi tugged him until their foreheads touched and Obi could stare into his golden eyes.

“You are not a burden, Maul.”

The Zabrak grunted at the gentle Force-caress Obi-wan pushed at him.  There was warmth there, and hope, and peace.

“Let’s have some tea, hm?”

\---

End


	10. Old Men are Old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really have a thing for them as cute happy old men, okay?

It was a quiet day.  Maul was tinkering in the storage room, Obi-wan was just finishing up a book on Jedi history, written by a non-Jedi.  He found their misunderstanding of the Jedi’s purpose a little vexing, but-- in all other aspects it was an accurate account, really.  And besides, Obi-wan  _ knew _ that the Jedi were not quite loved in all parts of the galaxy ( _ despite our good work! ...Not everyone agrees with the idea of overall good, anyway) _ .  A little contention wasn’t an issue.

Obi-wan peered over the edge of his book when he felt a tremor in the Force, followed by a frustrated grunt and several clanks.  Obi-wan didn’t feel any panic, or pain, or anger reverberating through the air, so he remained relaxed into the couch.  Maul emerged from the storage room, blinking owlishly and wiping his hands on his trousers.  Grease was...well...everywhere.

“Dropped the grease?”  Obi’s tone was teasing.  Maul was incapable of inelegance of any type.

Maul rolled his eyes.  “No, but some twat left a giant puddle of the stuff on the floor.  I can’t imagine who it was.”

Obi-wan grinned.  “Sorry, Maul…”

The Zabrak grunted.  “You will be, since you’re cleaning it up.  I need a shower.”

The Jedi sighed.  “Fine, fine.”   _ It  _ is _ my fault, anyway. _

\---

Maul showered and Obi scrubbed.  Halfway through getting the thick smelly grease off the floor (and dear god there was a lot of it!) Obi-wan felt an ache settling across his back.   _ Ah.  That will hurt, later. _

Obi-wan didn’t really feel the pain in his back until he stooped to lift the bucket of brackish water.  He gasped when a sharp lance of pain raced up his spine, and only his years of training in the Force kept him from dropping the pail entirely.  As it was, Obi-wan set the tub down heavily and water sloshed over the side.  He stood slowly, hand going to rub at his lower back.  It throbbed angrily.   _ Kriff, I’m getting old. _

Obi-wan stared balefully at the spilled water and the bucket, and then shuffled out of the room.   _ I’ll have to tell Maul I’ll finish it later. _

When Obi exited the room, he found himself face-to-face with Maul, still dripping from the shower.  The Zabrak was tense, practically radiating worry.

“Kenobi,” he breathed, “you’re in pain.”

Obi-wan’s mouth twisted, and he bit back a scathing reply.   _ The time for insults is past.  We are too old for that. _  “It’s nothing.”

Maul visibly bristled.  “Prove it.”

Obi-wan sighed.  “I just need to lie down.”  He hobbled forward a few steps.

“It’s your back.”  The Zabrak was concerned.

“Bravo, Maul.  Lemme lie down.”  Obi made for the couch.

“Not there.”  Maul touched his arm, and tugged him gently in the direction of their bedroom.  “On the bed.”

Obi-wan grumbled (for show) and winced when he lay down (not for show).  Maul continued to towel himself off.  “I am going to massage your back.”

“Thank you.”  Obi-wan closed his eyes and breathed deeply.  Some more of the ache ebbed away.

Soon Maul’s hands were on his back, and Obi felt like he was melting.  He felt sleep tugging at the corners of his eyelids, and he tapped the mattress next to himself vaguely.  “Pain’s gone,” he managed, “lie down.”

Obi could practically  _ feel _ Maul chuckling at him.

“Humans...ridiculous.”  The mattress dipped as Maul lay beside him.

Obi-wan grunted.  “Uhhuh.  Sleep.”

Obi fell asleep listening to the purr catching deep in Maul’s throat


	11. Suffering (?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Moment when Maul truly, bone deep knows he has to get away from Sidious"  
> This is a missing scene from one of my longer fics, "Well then, I guess we're both idiots"

Maul arrives on Lothor Minor half-blind with pain.  He knew he’d passed out on the way there several times, and was at risk of being crushed by the mounds of garbage on his way down the disposal shaft to the planet-- but he’d been saved by the Force.  Somehow.

He lands on a staggering heap of waste and only just manages to drag himself out of the way of other compressed garbage cubes that continue to pour out of the containment ship.  Although he avoids being crushed, Maul is still assaulted by bits and pieces of compressed plastics and metals that have fallen off their cubes.  They sting, but are a welcome distraction from the numbness at his waist.  A fragment of metal embeds itself into the ragged hole at Maul’s waist, and he  _ writhes. _

_ It hurts, it hurts. _  This is far worse than any training, any test, any punishment Maul has ever endured.   _ Master, please… _ He does not have the breath to speak, or the coherency.  All he can do is grip his saberstaff close as the planet dances before Maul’s eyes, and he is fighting just to breathe, because suddenly the air is being crushed out of him by a weight on his back--

Maul passes out.  It is hours before he wakes again.

\---

Two days later, and Maul is at the end of his rope.  He’s learned to ignore the pain below his chest (but never  _ forget _ ,  _ oh, it is impossible to  _ forget _ the kind of agony that rips him at his seams-- _ ) and has learned to lick the water condensation from metal scraps in the morning, but he has not found a single bit of food.  The creatures here are slippery, too agile for Maul’s desperate sluggish claws to catch.  And so now he’s simply lying in wait, for prey or death, whichever came first.

The sound of a craft landing on-planet does not register to Maul’s ears.  He is deaf to anything that is not food, and he is on the cusp of calling out to a brother he’d forgotten he had/

Footsteps approach, and Maul listens.   _ Might be food-- have to eat-- it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, make it stop pleasepLEASE, SAVA-- _

And then his Master curls his presence about him like a dark cloak and prods at Maul’s mind.

Maul recoils.  Would reel away, if he were able.  But he is pinned to the ground 

Sidious reaches out and prods Maul with the tip of his boot.  The apprentice hardly notices.

“So,” his Master says, and Maul  _ whimpers _ , “you thought you could hide from me here?”

_ No, please, I-- _ Maul tries to speak, but all that happens in his parched mouth is another weak sound like death.  

Sidious laughs. “Pathetic.  I thought you’d be able to kill those Jedi.  ...Well, I suppose I simply made a miscalculation.”  He sighs, then.  “A pity I wasted my precious time with you at all…”

And then, Sidious does something cruel to his wound and Maul  _ screams _ .  His sight goes  _ wrong _ and he does not remember anything more.

\---

Later, gazing into the stone grey eyes of Kenobi, Maul is coherent for the first time in many, many years.  He remembers, and rage bellows through him.

_ I will kill him, soon.  I will have my revenge. _


	12. Support group AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: drug / alcoholic support AU. there is no drug use/drinking but I wanted to warn y'all just in case!

Obi-wan had been sober for two years and counting when Maul first came to an A.A. meeting.  Obi tended not to pay much attention to newbies, especially because they were typically quiet for the first couple of meetings-- if they made it past the second at all.  But Maul was the kind of creature that was hard to ignore.  His tattoos were vivid, and gave a grace to his movements that masked the tremble of limbs that burned for spice.  Obi saw it immediately-- the way Maul would rub at his arms uncomfortably, the way his fingers shook.  His stringy limbs that spoke of many nights without food.

Like all of the new kids, Maul was quiet during his first meeting.  Obi was surprised when he stayed on for more than a few meetings--typically beings addicted to (or weaning themselves off of) spice lasted no more than two meetings--and was even more surprised when Maul continued to pass on his turn to speak.

Obi was like that too, for the first month or so.  Sullenly silent.  He’d had things to work past.  And gradually, the Zabrak in the back corner became less of something to watch and more of a fixture of A.A. meetings, like the table in the center of the room with the lights or the chairs that ringed it.

It was a surprise, then, when Maul opened his mouth two months later to speak.  He didn’t tell of his troubles but rather he excused his presence. Brusquely-- “I’m here because the support group for spice isn’t as...relaxed as this one is.  They’re so focused on telling you you’re a monster because of your addictions that they forget to actually help anyone.”  Obi waited for him to continue, but Maul waved his turn aside as he relaxed back into his chair.  “That’s it.”

\---

Maul didn’t speak again until months afterwards.  He was at the end of his rope, and it was showing.  Obi had noticed the bags under his eyes (more pronounced than usual, anyway) and the waver in his steps, as if he was unsure of how to proceed.

“I’m homeless right now--been for a while--,” Maul started, “and I-- ah-- I-- couldn’t make the rent.”  He paused for a moment, shoulders tensed and brow furrowed.  “Not because of spice, or anything... I just couldn’t hold down a job.”  Maul’s eye twitched, and for a moment he looked furious.  Dangerous.  Obi-wan felt his eyes narrowing.

But then Maul’s facial features smoothed out and the tension left his body and Obi could lean back in his seat again.

“Anyway,” Maul continued, almost with a drawl, “That’s it.”  He looked to the red headed youth at his right expectantly.  “Talk away, Brendol.”

\---

Obi was on his way out of the meeting when Maul snagged him by his sleeve.  Obi-wan turned to look at the Zabrak, feeling annoyed.  “Can I help you…?”

Maul blinked (his face looked worse up close-- definitely some sort of malnutrition).  “I, um...” (his hand was still clutching Obi-wan’s sleeve).

“Yes?”  Obi was feeling increasingly impatient.   _ I need to get home.  I have shit to do. _  He glanced down at Maul’s hand pointedly, then back up to the Zabrak’s face.  Maul dropped his sleeve as if he’d been burned.

“Right.  I need a place to stay.”

Obi-wan knew where this was going, and he did  _ not _ want some half-weaned druggie living in his apartment.  “No.”

Maul looked somewhat defeated.  “I…” he swallowed.  Tried again.  “Please.  Kenobi, I…”

“I said no.  I don’t want to be involved with you.  I have enough problems of my own.”   _ And I don’t need one of your ‘problems’ to come knocking at my door, either. _

Maul sagged.  “I understand.”  He gave one last mournful look to Obi, and then limped off.

\---

Obi didn’t see Maul at the next A.A. meeting.   _ I guess he gave up? ….Damn, I shouldn’t feel guilty.  It’s not my fault. _  He sighed and settled deeper into his uncomfortable plastic chair.

Once the meeting was over, Obi decided to take a walk.  He was conflicted-- on the one hand, it was probably Maul’s choice not to show up today, but on the other, how much did Obi-wan himself discourage him?  Obi sighed. _  He may just be busy today.  Or found a job.  Or something. _

Obi continued to stroll down the neighborhood, noting the shack-like appearance of the houses and the beings that seemed to peer at him from the shadows.   _ I’d forgotten that this wasn’t the best part of town. _  He was about to turn around and leave when Obi was distracted by an angry shout, followed by a pained yelp.  Obi peered around the corner.   _ No use getting into a fight if I don’t ha-- _

_ Fuck.  That’s where Maul is today. _  Obi-wan stepped out of the shadows right as the angry Rodian shoved Maul up against a wall.  Maul was writhing, but his limbs were clearly too weak to push the larger creature off.  Obi could practically  _ smell _ Maul’s terror in the air.

“Hey,” Obi said.

The Rodian turned from where it was strangling Maul to glare at Obi-wan.  “Leave.”

“No,” Obi-wan smiled, “Not yet.”

“Are you here to kill the Zabrak too?”  The Rodian’s voice was crackly and rusty sounding, like he’d smoked too much.

“No,” Obi repeated, “I’m not.”  Maul gurgled in the background.   _ Ah, shit.  The Rodian’s really squishing his neck. _

The Rodian snarled.  “You’re not with the PD, are you?”

“No,” Obi yawned, “but you are gonna put my friend there down.”  He reached for a lump on his belt--just a wrench, but the Rodian had no reason to know that--and said, “If you don’t put him down you’ll regret it.”

The Rodian growled, considered.  Dropped Maul in a heaving pile of limbs on the pavement.  “Keep the vermin, then,” it hissed, and kicked Maul as it stormed away.

Obi lifted Maul back to his feet.  The Zabrak was trembling, gasping.  He blinked at Obi gratefully as he massaged his throat.

“Thank you,” he rasped.

Obi nodded.  “Sure thing.”  There was something dark staining Maul’s side, and when Obi reflexively reached out to touch it Maul flinched away.  Blood spattered onto the pavement.

“You need to go to the hospital.”

Maul shook his head.  “Can’t-- too expensive.  Wound’s not bad anyways.” 

_ Bullshit.  _ Obi rolled his eyes.  “I can understand the worry about cost, but you still need treatment.  At least let me give you some first aid.”

Maul nodded, slowly.

“I’ll take you to my apartment and stitch you up.”

“Thank you.”


	13. "Please, don't leave me"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spoiler alert: major character death

In this life, they did not hate each other. In this life, they did not grow apart. In this life they got to watch each other grow old, ragged and torn in places that should not have been broken.  But, they were happy.  But, they were alive.

The accident happened on Luke’s third birthday. It could have been avoided, really. Wasn’t even a true problem– just that the magnetic coil in their clunky old speeder needed to be replaced. It was still serviceable, and maul’d been on his way to the city to get it repaired. They couldn’t afford for the speeder to break down, far from the city as they were.

Obi-wan was to attend Luke’s party– or rather, drop his gift off and chat with Beru and Owen a bit. Maul hated the two, and so he’d been the one tasked with getting the speeder fixed (it was funny, though, how the Zabrak doted on luke. One of obi-wans favorite memories was from that time beru and Owen had left town, leaving luke in their care, and obi-wan had stumbled across maul curled around luke on the couch, fast asleep. Luke’d been smiling.)

Obi-wan was cradling luke at his hip when he felt it.  A deep disturbance in the Force, a lance of energy that went up his leg like electroshock.  Luke burst into tears, and obi shuddered.   _Something is wrong–_

Beru reached out to calm Luke (”Really, Obi-wan, you need to be more careful–”) and Obi-wan passed the sobbing toddler to her, out of his trembling shaking hands.  Beru quieted when she saw the stricken look on his face.

“Maul,” Obi-wan breathed, beginning to feel the first surges of panic, and then  _pain_ , which was not his own, echoing from the distance.

“You should find him,” Beru said.

“What?” Owen was not as fast to catch on.

“I need your speeder,” Obi-wan said, clenching his fist.  _I have to get to Maul NOW._

“It might be raiders,” Beru added.

“What?!” Owen looked confused.

Obi-wan pursed his lips and left.  He’d apologize to Owen later.  Once Maul was safe.

–

Obi-wan sent out a pulse of Force energy ahead of the racing speeder.  He’d been able to make tenuous contact with Maul, but their connection kept fading in and out with the eddies and flows of Maul’s mind.  The Force reverberated back at Obi-wan, tasting of anger and hurt and  _helplessness. I’m close…_

Obi-wan felt like the ride on that speeder was the longest ride of his life.  Maul was so  _close_ , barely out of reach, and yet! Obi could not help him, could not stop the pain that pounded through the both of them.  He rounded the corner and–

_there!  Maul!_

The Zabrak was huddled on the ground, the speeder twenty paces away crushed into the dirt.  Something was smoking, and the air smelled like burnt flesh and rubber.  A raider lay facedown in the sand, their weapon still buzzing faintly with electricity.  But Obi-wan had eyes only for Maul.

“Maul!” he shouted.  The lump on the ground didn’t move.  Panic was throbbing in Obi-wan’s throat now, and he rushed off Owen’s speeder and to Maul’s side.

It was not good.  Maul was lying on his side with his eyes squinched shut, pushing on his abdomen like he was trying to keep something inside.

“Maul,” Obi-wan said, “Maul, are you there?”

The Force wobbled with relief when Maul cracked an eye open.  “Obi…?” The Zabrak’s mouth twitched.  “Obi, are you really..?”

“Yes,” Obi-wan breathed, “Yes, I am here.”

“Kenobi–” Maul broke off in a low pained moan when Obi-wan rolled him onto his back, “I’m–”

“Just keep the pressure on your wound, okay? I’m going t–”

“Kenobi!”  Obi-wan blinked down at Maul.  “It _hurts._ ”

Obi-wan felt like his throat was closing up.  “Maul–”

“I’m holding my internal organs in, Kenobi.”

“Maul–”

“I’m going to die.”

“No!” Obi-wan was nearly panicking, now, because Maul was in pain and he was saying things like _, like–_

“Kenobi.”  Obi-wan had a hand over his own mouth to stop from sobbing,  _because the Force was telling him the same thing_.

“No, you can’t–”

Maul’s face twisted. “ _Don’t_ ,” he gasped, “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“I–” Obi-wan stopped as Maul reached a shaky hand up to brush his face.  He remembered Qui-gon, and Satine,  _and–_

 _Maul_. His eyes were still golden, despite the fat years sitting between youth and now.

Obi-wan cradled maul’s hand close to his face.  The Zabrak whimpered, bit his lip–

“Kenobi,” he rasped, “I love you.”

And then. then he went limp.

—

end

 


	14. Yet another Kiss Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was, “one small kiss, pulling away for an instant, then devouring each other”

Maul woke first, like usual.  He blinked slowly in the warm air-- the room was almost hot, bright from the sun spilling in from the window.  He felt lazy, and slow.  Maul looked to his right, where Kenobi lay sprawled and tangled in the sheets.   _...Kenobi. _  It took a moment before Maul realized a smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth, and satisfaction spread through him.  Obi-wan took a deep relaxed breath inwards, and Maul felt the irresistible draw to kiss him.  He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead.  A sudden spike of anxiety spiralled through him.   _ I didn’t ask permission.  I invaded his space, I-- this was wrong. _

Obi-wan’s eyelids fluttered, and Maul jerked backwards, heart pounding.  Maul stared at him for a moment, with bated breath,  _ terrified _ that the Jedi would be disgusted, or angry, or (even worse!) unaware of what just happened.  But then Obi-wan’s eyes were open and his mouth was moving, and he said: “Maul…?”

“I’m sorry,” the words tumbled out fast like a river.  “I shouldn’t have invaded your space-- I don’t deserve-- I--” panic was starting to rise up in his throat now, and Maul felt  _ sick _ .  He flicked his eyes away from the Jedi’s even gaze.

“Maul, it’s-- fine.  It’s okay. I-- Maul.   _ Maul _ .”

Maul turned to look at Obi-wan once more.   _ He really..?  _ The panic ebbed away.

Obi-wan cupped Maul’s face in his hands.  They were warm, dry.  Rough from old scars.   _ But pleasant. _  Maul shuddered.  “Listen to me.  I love you.  It’s  _ okay  _ for you to kiss me whenever however you want without asking.  Stars, we’ve been married for  _ years! _ ”

Guilt bubbled up in Maul’s chest.  “I’m sorry, I--”

Obi-wan cut him off with a gentle kiss.  “Stop apologizing.  You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Maul pulled himself away from the Jedi’s hands to stare into his eyes.  “...okay.”  An idea occurred to him, and Maul smirked.

He pushed forward and kissed him  _ hard _ , all teeth and licking and wetness, exactly how he knew Obi liked it.  He felt Obi-wan’s pulse jump in his neck, and the Force shivered with anticipation.  Obi-wan raked his hands down Maul’s back, and Maul grinned against Obi-wan’s soft pleading mouth.  He leaned backwards, into Obi-wan’s hands but far from his face.  The Jedi made an annoyed huffing sound.  “Don’t stop,” he said.

“Kiss you like that?”  Maul asked.

Obi-wan stared at him for a moment, pink and flustered, before starting to laugh.  “Maul, you utter bastard,” he wheezed out, after nearly a minute of tear inducing laughter.  “This was why I married you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh maul and obi would like, never even consider marriage. but whatever.


	15. In Which Obi-wan and Maul Reign Victorious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this in, like, 20 minutes. so its a little…out of character. in my opinion. ugh, writing.

Sabers twirled in near-tandem.  Maul on the left, Obi-wan on the right.  Both were circling like hawks, trying to find a weakness in their opponent.  There were none, of course, except his advanced age.  And even that was a boon-- his experience outweighed theirs by  _ decades _ .  ...Still.  Still.

Maul scowled, and then made their ‘attack’ sign with his chin.  Obi-wan moved forward smoothly, mechanically, lifting his saber to bisect the old man.  The hooded figure hissed and suddenly lightning sprung from his withered fingertips.  Obi-wan jerked his saber down in time to catch the force-lighting.  It was like fighting a wall made of chains-- a huge, driving force, whipping about and  _ stinging. _  Obi-wan stumbled back, his arms trembling with the weight of it ( _ and wading through the heavy intent to kill _ ), and, just before the lightning would’ve wrenched his saber from his hands and flung it away, Maul  _ roared. _

Sidious jerked his attention away from Obi-wan to the charging Zabrak.  Obi-wan took a breath to recover, and watched as Maul twisted elegantly to pierce the Sith through the belly.  The man shrieked, folding forward, and the lightning  _ surged _ .  Obi-wan was blasted back in a barrage of purple hot light that burned like fire.  He shouted as his back hit the ground with shattering force.  Obi-wan’s eyes slammed shut.

When he could open them again, he had to blink against the imprint the lighting had burned into his eyes.  His head throbbed, and Obi-wan got to his feet gingerly.

“Maul?” he called softly, clutching his saber.

There was a low groan coming from Obi-wan’s right.  He turned to look, fear cloying his throat.  “Maul!”

He rushed over.

Maul was on his side, clutching at his belly.

“Maul, stars, what’s wrong?”  Obi-wan kneeled by him.

The Zabrak looked up at him, grinning with a bloody mouth.  “I got him,” he croaked.

“Yeah, I saw.  Where’s the body?”  Obi-wan rolled Maul onto his back, pulling his trembling bloody hands away from his torso.

Maul grunted in discomfort.  “Disintegrated with the blast.  Robes are somewhere over there.”  He flicked his eyes up to indicate Obi-wan’s left.

Obi-wan nodded.  “These burns look superficial.  But painful.”

Maul chuckled, then took a hissing breath in.  “...Pain’s how you know you’re alive, anyway.”

Obi-wan pursed his lips.

“Kenobi, don’t give me that look.”  Maul winced when Obi-wan helped him to his feet.  “Ow…”

Obi-wan sighed.   _ He’s gonna need to spend the night in the bacta tank. _

“I know you’re about to say that I need to spend more time in that hellhole of a tank…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope u enjoyed. sidious totally survived, btw. just faked his death. not a biggie


	16. Sickfic 1: or, Maul gets a cold

The changes started small.  Maul would wake up in the morning and he’d have a small headache.  The next day he’d have a sniffly nose-- nothing too bad, just a couple of sneezes.  Then his limbs would feel a bit sluggish.  In fact, Maul hadn’t even realized his body was getting weaker until Savage nearly bested him sparring.

Savage looked vaguely concerned, and Maul felt his face burning up in embarrassment.

At the time he thought it was because he was annoyed that Savage had gone easy on him, but later he learned that it’d been a fever.

The fever got worse throughout the day, and Maul stoically ignored it.  He ignored the building headache, too, and the shortening intervals of time between sneezes.  

It was Savage who finally spoke up about it.

“Brother,” he’d said, “you’re looking a little, erm, peaky.”

Maul’d narrowed his eyes and then winced at the sudden pounding in his forehead. “What d’you mean,  _ peaky _ ?”  Maul rasped.

“Well, I think you might be getting sick, brother.”  Savage said.  He looked a little nervous.

Maul huffed.  “I’m not  _ sick _ . I don’t get  _ sick _ \-- that’s something a weakling wou--” Maul cut himself off as he noticed the world getting slow and wavy and heavy.

“Brother?”  Savage’s voice sounded like it was traveling through immense amount of water.

Maul groaned, and his headache pounded.  The world continued to sway, and Maul heard rather than felt his knees buckling and coming crashing to the floor.  The last thing he saw before his vision blurred to black was Savage’s concerned face, mouth open saying something.

\---

Maul woke with a gasp.  He was sweaty and feverish and shaking.  Savage was sitting next to his cot, clutching a wet rag, and blinked at him, concerned.

“Brother?”

Maul groaned, and twitched at the irritation of his throat.

“You need to drink something-- have some tea.”

Maul allowed Savage to help him sit up ( _ oh Force his head ached _ ) and blinked for a few moments at the feeling of vertigo.  Then he batted away Savages hands and took the teacup for himself.  

He nearly poured it all over himself with his shaky hands, but managed to get the lukewarm tea to his mouth.

It felt good going down, all smooth and silky, but the taste was overpoweringly sweet.  Maul wrinkled his nose.

“It’s the honey,” Savage explained.  “Here, I’ll take the cup.”

Maul let Savage take the cup with little resistance.  In fact, his hands were so loose the teacup had nearly slipped to the floor.

“I’m...sick?”  Maul managed.

Savage nodded.  “I think you got infected at the last spaceport we stopped at.  If I recall, there’d been an outbreak of Bybeck fever.”

Maul huffed in assent.

“Your symptoms are a little odd, but when I got it I was just the same.”

“Why haven’t you gotten it again?”  Maul grumbled.

Savage shrugged.  “I’m probably resistant to it now.”

Maul blinked sluggishly.

“You need to rest now.  I’ll get you some soup later.”

Maul let Savage manhandle him back under the covers.

“Night,” Maul mumbled.

Savage smiled a little.  “Good night, little brother.”

 


End file.
